


Moonlit Heart

by mithrel



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fantasy, Magic, Romance, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 18:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9197783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: There are legends about the ice statues in the glade.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a NaNo Secret Santa exchange, where we write a 1,000 word story based on a picture. My picture was [](http://s184.photobucket.com/user/mithrilluin/media/winter%20picture_zpst44crw3u.jpg.html)

There are legends about the ice statues that stand in the glade. Legends that although they stand silent and still under the winter sun, under the cold light of the stars they open their eyes and dance under the trees.

Most people in the ever-snowy land of Norvun hurry past even in the daylight, and at night take detours far out of their way to avoid passing the clearing in the moonlight. Legends also say that any who see the statues dance will meet a terrible fate–whether to join the dance until they drop from exhaustion, or to go mad from the beauty and magic of what they see.

Runar had never held with such nonsense. It was cold walking home, and the quickest way went right past the “haunted” glade, so he always hurried past, usually with his hands in his muff and his eyes on the road in front of him.

Today however, something, some sound, or a shadow on the ground, made him look up at the glade.

And stop, as if turned to ice himself.

Because the statues _were_ dancing, man and maid, gliding over the snow, their naked skin sparkling like prisms in the moonlight.

He oriented on one, just like the others at first glance, but then his eyes were opened and he saw that she was beautiful, more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen, more beautiful than a sunset, or a cataract, or the Northern Lights.

He took a step toward the dancer, involuntarily, and his foot crunched on the snow.

They looked up like deer at the approach of a hunter, and in a swirl of snow, the clearing was empty.

***

Runar knew it was pointless to look for them again; every time he passed the clearing it was empty. They’d been seen, and who knew when, or even if, they’d return? Probably when his body was moldering under the snow.

But he found himself making excuses to pass the glade three and four times a day, always hoping, always avoiding looking until the last instant, but the bare trees and undisturbed snow were all that greeted him. He cursed himself for a fool for ignoring the stories, for now he was being driven mad just like those poor souls.

He chewed his food mechanically, not even realizing what he was eating.

He lay awake at night, tormented, and when he at last fell into restless sleep the ice-maiden danced through his dreams. The sound of her singing came to him on the wind and he could think of nothing else.

His friends began to comment on how he looked drawn and seemed to be losing weight, concerned that he was sickening, but he ignored their solicitude and offers of help. He ignored everyone.

He approached the glade once more, knowing that there would be nothing there, knowing he would be disappointed yet again.

But there was someone standing there.

It was _her_.

Runar approached disbelievingly, half-afraid she would vanish again. But she waited for him, indeed she came forward with both her hands held out.

He took them, and realized with a shock that they were warm.

“It’s you,” he said inanely.

She nodded.

“Why are you here?”

She spoke for the first time, her voice like a half-frozen stream running over rapids. “Always before, I laughed when we disappeared and left the mortals to their fate. Always before, I smiled as I watched them dance, their feet faltering until they fell in the snow. But when I saw you…” She paused, trying to find words. “When I saw you I was struck to the heart.”

“But why did you disappear, why are you only here now?”

She shook her head. “I hoped it would pass. I told no one, keeping it deep within. But my people divined my secret, and they exiled me for daring to fall in love with a mortal.”

Her tears shone in the starlight, and he took her in his arms, stroking her hair as she cried.

When at long last she pulled away, he said simply “I am Runar.”

“I am Rielah,” she replied. “I love you, Runar.”

“I love you, Rielah.”

***

They stood there for a timeless moment, then Runar shook himself.

“The people of my village won’t accept our love any more than your people did. We need to leave, find somewhere to live where our love can be kept secret.”

She nodded. “I will go with you.”

They stole back to his house and he put together what he would need for the journey.

“Do you need anything?” he asked her as he sat to strap on his snowshoes.

She shook her head. “Only the moonlight and the snow.”

***

They set out for the next village, traveling by night and camping by day, for Rielah could not abide the sun.

The first village they came to had no need of his skills and no place for him. He reprovisioned and moved on.

So it proved at the next village, and the next, until Runar despaired of ever finding them a place.

But at last they came to a village with a vacant cottage and need of his skills.

No sooner had he started to unpack, than there was a knock on the door.

He opened it to find a plump, cheerful-faced woman holding a covered plate. “I’m told ye be new here, aye?”

Runar nodded and invited her in, and she set the plate on the table.

“I be Merel. I brought ye a little somethin’ to see ye through the cold night, Mr…?”

“Runar,” he replied.

She nodded. “And what brings ye here, Mr. Runar?”

He answered her questions politely, telling her the story he and Rielah had invented, that he was a trader who had decided to settle down. She seemed to be satisfied with that.

When she left, Rielah reappeared, and they returned to the unpacking, but there was soon another knock.

All day, curious villagers came to the door, wanting to meet the newcomer, occasionally bringing food or firewood. Runar was exasperated, but Rielah seemed more amused than anything.

“Once the novelty wears off, they’ll leave you alone. It’s not as if you were an unchaperoned maid. Indeed, the women might take care of you, men not able to do anything for themselves.”

He glared at her, but his eyes soon softened. This place really was perfect. It was screened by woods that Rielah could shelter and dance in, the house was set somewhat apart from the others, and the villagers were satisfied with his explanations.

“We can be happy, here, my love,” he said, smiling.

She came to him, and he took her in his arms. “I think we can, my love.”


End file.
